


Fistful of love

by darkwolffics



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-05-25 16:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkwolffics/pseuds/darkwolffics
Summary: Sherlock, John, and Rosie are a happy family. Out of nowhere, John begins abusing Sherlock. Is it something Sherlock can handle or does his boyfriend need some help?





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock knew he was in trouble. He had received a call from Rosie's nursery alerting him that she was ill and needed to be picked up. The detective did everything he could to go there but was unable to get a cab. In the end, he had taken the tube part of the way and then taken a bus the rest of the way. By the time he got there, John had already picked Rosie up.

 

He was dead.

 

His boyfriend expected him to pick Rosie up when it was needed. After all, his work schedule was more flexible than John’s schedule.

 

In all fairness, he had tried to get there but he had a feeling John wasn’t going to care.

 

He opened the door to their flat and headed up the stairs with heavy steps. He knew the lecture he was in for and he wasn’t excited about it. Sometimes John treated him like a child. He opened the door and stepped into their sitting room.

 

John was walked around the flat angrily cleaning it up. Sherlock frowned as his lover picked up Rosie’s toys and dropped them into a basket.

 

“Nice to see you,” John hissed sliding the basket under the coffee table.

 

“I’m sorry Joh-” Sherlock started but his boyfriend didn’t even give him a chance to explain.

 

“I had to get off work early to pick her up,” the doctor explained. “I...I thought I could count on you. She’s your child too.”

 

“I know that,” Sherlock said starting to get a bit annoyed with his boyfriend. “I look after her all the time. I was on my way, John. I couldn't get a cab.”

 

“Come on,” John said with a snort. “‘I’ve seen you catch a cab during a snowstorm. Don’t give me that!”

 

“I...couldn’t...get...a...cab,” Sherlock said pausing between each word.

 

Before Sherlock had a chance to respond to his boyfriend was standing close to him. The doctor brought his broad hands up and gave the taller man a bit of a push.

 

“I..don’t...buy...that!” John said growling at him. “I didn’t have a problem finding one.”

 

Sherlock was a bit taken back by John’s intense mood. The doctor was beyond angry with him. He knew he had every right to be angry with him. After all, it as his job to help out with Rosie. Yet, he wasn’t being reasonable. Sherlock couldn’t help the fact he couldn’t get a cab. He really didn’t like being called a liar.

 

Suddenly John gave him a shove. John was strong and heavy and though it didn’t look like much the detective hadn’t been expecting the burst of force which knocked him to the ground. He gave a cry of surprise as he tumbled to the floor. Sherlock yelped at his elbow came into contact with the hard floor.

 

“Sherlock!” John shouted dropping to the floor. “Are you alright?”

 

“Ow!” Sherlock cried out, holding onto his hurt elbow.

 

His pale eyes went wide in confusion and pain of what just transpired. On instinct, he pulled away from John’s hand going to help him up. Shame filled John as his lover pulled away. It wasn’t like him to shy away from his touch.

 

John quickly jumped back to his feet and ran into the kitchen. Sherlock shook his head as sat up. He didn’t think he was really hurt. He had just banged his elbow up a bit. He got to his feet and sat down in his chair.

 

Sherlock couldn’t believe what had just happened. They had fought in the past before they were a couple. He and John had got into a few physical fights in the past but they were always earned. He hadn’t done anything to deserve getting laid about John.

 

The doctor returned a few moments later with an ice pack. He knelt down in front of Sherlock and placed the ice pack to his elbow. He was looking up the detective with a look of worry and guilt.

 

“I’m so sorry,” John said. “I was just stressed. The clinic is so busy and I had to leave. My boss was a bit annoyed with me.”

 

“I did try to get a cab,” Sherlock explained. “I had to take the tube and a bus to get there. I did go as fast as I could.”

 

He was determined to prove himself. He didn’t want his boyfriend thinking he didn’t care about their child.

 

“I know,” the doctor said looking over the bruised elbow. “Did anything else get hurt?”

 

“No,” Sherlock said. “I think I just bumped my elbow. It isn’t that bad.”

 

“Hold that ice pack to your elbow,” his boyfriend explained. “If everything else starts hurting I’ll want to check it out. I don’t think I broke anything but I can’t be sure.”

 

“I fell on the floor,” Sherlock said with a snort. “You didn’t beat me up.”

 

“I was completely out of line,” the doctor said. “I’m going to go check on Rosie. It looks like she has the flu. I ordered take away and it should be here any minute. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Just rest.”

 

Sherlock was a bit taken back by John’s actions. He was so worried about him. Yes, the shove was undeserved but wasn’t he getting worked up about nothing? They had fought in the past and he never worried like this. Why was this time different? Because it was undeserved or because they were a couple?

 

The detective shook his head. He didn’t mind a little shove if it got him some extra attention. It seemed like John was set on babying him for a while. Sherlock settled back in his chair. His elbow hurt and he was a bit angry with John. He had no right to go shoving him around. Yet, he supposed it was worth it if John was extra caring afterward.

 

He smiled as he closed his eyes. He could get used to this.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days were very relaxing for Sherlock. John still guilty for shoving him. He didn’t complain when Sherlock left dirty dishes in the sink and forgot to order take away. Sherlock felt bad for taking advantage of the situation but he wasn’t to blame for starting the fight. John **OWED** him.

 

It was a full week before it wore off.

 

John was always a loving and caring people but was different when John felt guilty. During that week their lovemaking was much more intimate. John normally liked him on his hands and knees. After Sherlock was injured he changed it up. The good doctor didn’t want him “stressing” his arm. He put him on his side and pushed into him from behind. It had felt so nice to be pressed up against each other with one of John’s arms wrapped around his waist. The doctor kissed the top of his head as he rocked inside of him.

 

Sherlock wanted the lovemaking back. He knew he could just talk to John. He could tell him he wanted it that way but he couldn’t find the words. He wanted a little extra attention and love. He would never admit it out loud but he loved hugs.

 

His mother was never big on giving them to him. She was loving but just not in a touchy-feely way. It felt nice to get them for a change. 

 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to ask.

 

As much as Sherlock didn’t want to he knew he was going to have to force John’s hand. As soon as he noticed John’s pity was wearing off he started doing his chores again. He knew it would annoy John if He didn't do them.

 

After a few days, he realized that If he wanted to trick John into hitting him he would have to stop doing some of his chores.

 

He couldn’t make it too obvious or John would see right through it. He decided to stop doing the dishes since that was John’s pet peeve. He did things he really needed to do, like caring for Rosie but he tried to leave a trail of unfinished chores behind him.

 

It was nearly three weeks before John lost it. Sherlock was almost ready to give up when John approached him. The detective had just put the little one down for a nap and was in the kitchen getting ready to do dishes. They were going to need some for dinner and it would be there soon.

 

“Sherlock,” John said in an annoyed tone walking into the kitchen. “What the hell has been going on with you?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Sherlock asked squirting a bit of dish soap into the sink.

 

“I’m glad you're cleaning,” the doctor said. “But this is the first time I’ve seen you touch a dish in weeks.”

 

“I’ve been busy,” the detective explained picking up a dish. “I’m doing it now.”

 

To her surprise, John knocked the plate from his hand. The ceramic dish fell to the ground and shattered. Sherlock jumped back in surprise. He was looking to get a rise out of John but nothing too intense.

 

John's sudden burst of rage was intense and actually scared him a bit. He wasn't used to John exploding like that. 

 

A sharp pain cut through Sherlock’s foot and he dropped to the floor. He picked up his foot and looked at it. A large shard of a broken plate was sticking out of his foot.

 

“Sherlock!” John called kneeling down next to his lover. “Let me get that out. I’m so sorry.”

 

“I’ve got it,” Sherlock said gently pulling the shard out.

 

A small stream of blood flowed from the cut and onto the floor. John quickly jumped up and raced off the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit. Sherlock sat and looked down at his injured foot and felt a wave of guilt take over him. This was his doing. He had baited his lover.

 

Sherlock was going to get what he wanted. John clearly felt upset about the damage he had caused. He would treat him like gold until the injury healed but at what price? He was manipulating John to get what he wanted. 

 

The doctor returned with the first aid kit. He knelt down next to Sherlock as he opened the plastic box. He removed some antibiotic cream and started applying it to his foot. The bleeding had stopped but the cut still looked painful.

 

“I’m going to wrap it,” John explained. “I’ll check it and help you change it, hun.”

 

Sherlock nodded as he watched John carefully wrap his foot. At that moment he knew it was worth it. He loved feeling John’s gentle fingers on his skin as he attended to his needs.

 

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said as he finished. “Can you get up on your own? I want to clean this mess up.”

 

“It’s alright,” he said trying to stand up. “I’ll be fine. I should have done the damn dishes.”

 

Sherlock put his hand on the sideboard as he rose to his feet. He tried to put some weight on his injured foot and hissed with pain. He knew it would heal in a few days but he was going to have a hard time getting around until then.

 

“I’ve got you,” John said taking his arm. “Come on. Watch the broken pieces on the floor.”

 

The two of them carefully crossed left the kitchen and walked over to Sherlock’s hair. He helped his boyfriend sit down.

 

“Do you need anything darling?” John questioned.

 

“My laptop,” he said. “Other than that I’m fine. Don’t make a big deal out of it John. I’m fine.”

 

John quickly fetched the laptop for Sherlock and handed it to them. He had only been dating Sherlock for a few months and he had already physically hurt him twice. He had never been abusive with any of his other partners. Why was he lunging out at Sherlock?

 

He needed to stop. There was no way he was going to touch his lover in anger ever again.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock knew he could lie to friends but he couldn’t lie to Mrs. Hudson. She was like a mother to him and could always see through his lies. As soon as he saw him limping she would start asking questions. He knew that. So why was he surprised when she questioned him about it right away?

 

After John left for work she brought up his morning tea. The two of them had started doing it nearly every morning unless Sherlock was busy. It gave them a chance to talk and catch up. It seemed like Sherlock was always busy with Rosie, work, or John. He liked having some time to relax each day.

 

“What happened?” she asked when saw Sherlock limping around his flat.

 

She was holding the tea set and looking at him with a confused look. Should he lie? She was used to the two of them being a bit of an unusual couple. Maybe he could play it off and make it sound like an accident. He planned to lie to George...no..that wasn’t right...but he knew he couldn’t lie to her.

 

“John and I got into a fight yesterday,” he explained sitting down in his chair.

 

“He did that?” Mrs. Hudson said setting the tea down.

 

Sherlock could hear the shock in her voice. 

 

“He knocked a plate out of my hand,” Sherlock said trying to sound nonchalant. “I stepped on it and cut my foot up.”

 

If he was relaxed about it then she would be too. 

 

“Is everything alright between you two?” Mrs. Hudson asked pouring a cup of tea.

 

“Yes,” Sherlock said after she handed him the cup of tea. “We just had a little fight. All couples fight.”

 

“I suppose so,” she said pouring herself a cup. “I know John can be an intimidating man sometimes but don’t let him push you around. You’re a big boy. If he does something you don’t like stand your ground.”

 

“I will,” Sherlock promised desperate to change the subject. “So...how is the relationship with your new boyfriend.”

 

Mrs. Hudson chuckled at the change of subject. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hide anything from him.

 

\--

 

A case. Three days later Sherlock was called off on a case. A missing woman and a dead hedgehog. Sherlock was excited about the case. It was the first interesting one in weeks. Yet, his foot was still killing him. He really didn't like the idea of being on it. Whenever he stepped on it a wave of pain would shoot through this foot. 

 

John was changing the bandages twice a day and kept checking it for infection. It was healing fine but slowly. The doctor expected that it would take another week before it was fully healed.

 

The detective couldn’t put his full weight on his foot. He leaned on his good foot and drug his bad one. Whenever there was something near him that could support his weight he would use that. It was a slow way of getting around but it worked. 

 

By the time he reached the crime scene, he was tired from trying to deal with his messed up foot. He had already told John if anyone asked about it he would say he cut it on a broken beaker. It was a believable lie.

 

He’d never forget John’s face when he told him the lie. His eyes were clouded with guilt and worry. Sherlock had never expected him to smash a plate. That wasn’t in the plan. He expected John just to give him a shove and be done with it.

 

Perhaps baiting his lover wasn’t worth it. If he had trouble walking for weeks at a time it wasn’t. He wished he had a way to ensure what John was going to do to him but he had turned out to be a bit unpredictable.

 

“There you are,” Lestrade said as he entered the house. “Where have you been? I called like an hour ago.”

 

“I got here as soon as I could,” Sherlock said limping into view.

 

“Are you hurt?” the detective inspector said. “You’re limping pretty bad there. Has John looked at that?”

 

“I dropped a beaker the other day,” Sherlock explained looking around the flat. “Cut my foot up pretty bad. John knows about it and is taking care of it.”

 

Sherlock glanced over his shoulder and caught the look of worry on Lestrade’s face. Why was he so concerned? It was just a hurt foot. What would he think if he knew John did it? Would he think Sherlock deserved the treatment or would he think John was out of line? 

 

“So there’s a missing woman and a dead hedgehog?” Sherlock asked trying to get the conversation turned in the right direction.

 

“Yes,” Lestrade said turning his attention back to the case. “She’s nineteen and a student. Her roommate reported her missing a few hours ago. She’s worried her boyfriend did something to her. Apparently, he was pretty abusive and threatened to kill her pet hedgehog last week.”

 

Sherlock sighed and shook his head. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well for the girl in question.

 

\--

It was killing John to watch his lover limp around the flat. He looked like he was in a lot of pain. The doctor did everything he could to make life easier for him. He normally liked sex to be a bit on the rougher side but he’d taken it easy on Sherlock. The last time they had sex Sherlock had simply ridden him slow and easy. He wasn’t complaining. It was still lovely but not really what he wanted. John wanted to put his lover on his knees and give him a good pounding. Gentle love making really wasn't his thing. 

 

Of course, he was the one to blame for it. He was the reason Sherlock was injured. He had no right to complain. All he could think about was the shocked look on his lover’s face as the plate broke across the floor.

 

He actually looked scared for a second.

 

John never wanted to see that look on Sherlock’s eyes again. He wouldn’t allow it. He would help Sherlock heal and then things would be better. He had to stop letting his bad days get to him. Sherlock wasn’t trying to get a rise out of him. He was just as busy as he was. He **NEEDED** to remember that. 

 

It was a bit wrong for John to expect so much of him. Sherlock wasn’t the type to sit at home quietly and raise a family. He loved him and Rosie but he still needed to have his own life. It would take Sherlock time to get used to family life. John hadn’t given him that time.

 

He would be more understanding and patient with his lover.


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks later Sherlock was fully healed and running around like his injury had never happened. It made John so happy to him fully healed again. Things could finally get back to normal. He would never hurt Sherlock again.

 

Sherlock wasn’t sure how to feel about his recovery. He was glad he was feeling better but that also meant the special attention was over. John always loved him. He always told him he loved him and kissed him. Yet, when he was injured the touching was more intimate and caring. He felt like he could sit in his arms forever.

 

He was almost desperate for John’s loving touch. He wished he could just ask but he couldn’t. He wasn't the type to “need” a hug and soft care. He was a hard unfeeling man who didn’t need or want affection. At least that is what most people thought.

 

What could he do? What would push John to be a bit rough? He didn’t want to push him too far. He didn’t want another screw up like his foot. He couldn’t go that long with a messed up foot again.

 

What could he do? If John had a bad day that helped his case but he didn’t want it to be too hard of a day.

 

Sherlock was deep in thought when he heard the front door to their flat. John had a bit of a grumpy look on his face as he hung up his coat.

 

“Wheres Rosie?” Sherlock asked seeing his partner was alone.

 

“I dropped her off with Molly,”  the doctor said frowning at his partner. “Did you forget?”

 

“Forget what?” the detective said looking at him with a confused look.

 

He had no idea what John was talking about. 

 

“I knew it!” John said shaking his head. “We’ve been planning this for weeks. I told you I was getting the sitter and you were supposed to get theater tickets.”

 

Oh yes! He had forgotten but he wasn’t really to blame for it. He’d been busy with a case. He thought he _had_ booked the tickets.

 

“You really drive me crazy sometimes,” John said slowly raising his voice.

 

“I can call the theater now,” Sherlock said getting to his feet. “Perhaps we can still get tickets.”

 

Sherlock wasn’t expecting what came next. His lover crossed the small room and stuck him hard across the face. The sound of John’s hand slapping across his face was the only thing he can hear. The detective let out a cry as he fell to the floor.

 

To his surprise, John didn’t rush to his side as he normally did. He just stood there glaring at him with true anger in his eyes. As he stood there looking at Sherlock his eyes began to soften. After a moment he quickly dropped to Sherlock’s side.

 

“I can’t believe I did that,” He said cupping Sherlock’s face in his hand. “Are you hurt?”

 

“Not really,” Sherlock said looking away from John.

 

He couldn’t look into those eyes. He couldn’t see the pain he had caused. John had simply asked him for one thing. One thing! All he had to do was make one phone call and he couldn’t do that.

 

“I’ll call,” John said. “Let me help you. I’ll call the theater and see if they still have tickets. If they don’t we’ll think of something else. It isn’t a big deal.”

 

 _It was a big_ deal _! He had let John down. It didn’t matter if it was a small thing. It was a thing. He always let him down._

 

Sherlock remained silent as John helped him to his feet and into his chair.

 

“Sit right there,” the doctor explained. “I’m going to get you an ice pack.”

 

Sherlock picked up his laptop and looked at his reflection in the dark screen. His face was going to bruise. He needed to think of a way to explain that. He was going to see Lestrade in the morning. He would want to know what happened.

 

He would have to make up an excuse about tripping and falling but would Lestrade believe that? He’d been limping around for over and week and now he had bruised face. He was a cop. He knew what abu….

 

_No. He wasn't abusive. John would never do anything like THAT._

 

Sherlock had stepped out of line and had to be dealt with.

 

John quickly rushed into the room carrying an ice pack. He put it so Sherlock’s face and held it there. He frowned at the bruise that was already forming. He felt guilty for not just hitting his lover but putting him in an uncomfortable position.

 

The doctor had slapped him. Sherlock was the one who was going to have to deal with a bruise on his face. He was the one people would stare at and wonder how it happened. He was the one who would have to answer questions. It didn’t seem fair.

 

_Well, abuse was never fair._

 

John shook the thought from his head. He wasn’t abusing Sherlock. They had always gotten into fights. He knew Sherlock could hold his own. If he wanted to fight John off he could. If he wanted to tell John to leave he would.

 

“I’ll call the theater,” John said picking up his phone.

 

Sherlock held the ice pack to his face as he watched John walk out of the sitting room and into the kitchen.

 

Why couldn’t he just be a good boyfriend? Why couldn’t he just do what he was told? Why was he such as waste?

 

_Just be good and I won’t have to hit you._

 

Sherlock quickly forced the thought from his head. He did not want to go there. His past was locked away and he didn’t need to deal with it.

 

“We got tickets!” John said walking back into the sitting room a few minutes later. “They had a group cancel so they have plenty of tickets.”

 

“Good,” Sherlock said forcing a small smile.

 

“Do you feel like going out?” the doctor asked kneeling down in front of him.

 

“Of course,” the detective said lowering the ice pack.

 

“Sherlock,” he said softly. “I can’t keep doing this to you. You don’t deserve what I’m doing.”

 

What was he doing? He was only doing what Sherlock was asking for. He _WASN’T_ doing anything wrong. Sometimes Sherlock needed a heavy hand. They both knew that.

 

“It’s alright,” Sherlock said wrapping an arm around his boyfriend pulling him in close. “Don’t worry about it. Things like this happen.”

 

“Things like this don’t just happen,” John said not believing the words that were coming out of Sherlock’s mouth. “Sherlock this is wrong. I should never hurt you this way.”

 

“Just drop it,” Sherlock said kissing his lover’s cheek. “Let’s get dressed and have a fun night out. We don’t need to worry about this.”

 

John allowed Sherlock to let go of him and rise to his feet. The detective handed him the ice pack before heading off to get ready for a night out. Despite how cold the ice pack was it felt like it was burning John’s hands.

 

It was the second ice pack he had to use on his boyfriend to treat damage he had caused. John quickly put the ice pack in the sink. He couldn’t stand to hold it anymore. It was a reminder of what he had done, of the monster he had become. 

 

He wouldn’t do it again. Sherlock didn’t deserve to be put through what he was putting him through. He wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

 

\--

Sherlock had no way to hide the bruise on his face. He thought of hiding it with makeup but thought better of it. What if he didn’t do a good job? If Lestrade thought he was trying to hide a bruise he might get suspicious.

 

He decided to let the bruise be. He would simply say he tripped over one Rosie’s toy and hit his face. It was easy enough to believe. Having a baby around could be a tripping hazard. 

 

The two of them were meeting for coffee to go over the details of the case. Sherlock was a few minutes late due to his debate about what to do with his bruise.

 

The detective inspector was in the middle of eating a sandwich when he arrived.

 

“Hello,”  Lestrade said setting his sandwich down. “I have the current-”

 

Lestrade looked up at Sherlock and was taken back by what he saw. Sherlock had a large bruise on his face. The angry mark stood out against his skin. It was clearly a fresh mark and looked like the result of a slap to the face. Lestrade could just make out the lines of fingers. Someone had slapped him hard. 

 

“What happened?” the detective questioned.

 

“I fell,” Sherlock explained sitting down across from him. “I tripped over one of Rosie’s toys.”

 

He was lying. Why? Was he trying to protect someone?

 

John was really the only person in Sherlock’s life that he would go to that length to protect but there was no way John could do that. He loved Sherlock to the end of the earth and since they became an official couple they were perfect with each other. Had they had some kind of fight? He knew Sherlock could be hard to live with sometimes.

 

He must be mistaken. He must be confused. He as a cop. He knew abuse when he saw. Yes, Sherlock had suffered a few small injuries but there was nothing to be concerned about. He would keep an eye on it but he wasn’t going to accuse John of something without a lot of proof.

 

“Oh,” Greg said. “I guess having a little kid around can be hard sometimes.”

 

“It’s hard to keep up with her sometimes,” Sherlock explained, happy that Greg had bought his story.

 

“Alright,” Greg said getting the sense Sherlock didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “I have the latest reports in from forensics.”

 

Sherlock took the folder and opened it. As he glanced over the pages he found just what he thought he’d find.

 

“That roommate was on a vacation to visit her sick mother,” Sherlock explained. “That gave the boyfriend a chance to get in. He was invited in. No sign of a break-in. The hedgehog was poisoned. I don’t believe he poisoned the girl. The forensics team found traces of blood in the flat. It seems the boyfriend went through a lot of trouble to clean the flat.”

 

“Do you think he murdered her?” Lestrade asked.

 

“Not enough data,” Sherlock said closing the folder. “I don’t think Seether Divis is alive but I can’t be sure.”

 

“We still haven’t found the boyfriend, Bolshier Knockers.” Greg said. “His family isn’t telling us anything. I don’t know where he could be hiding for this long.”

 

Sherlock couldn't but wonder about Seether.  How long had she been abused? Why hadn't she called the police and got a restraining order? Why had she let that man into her flat?

 

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Greg asked when Sherlock feel awkwardly silent.

 

“Of course,” Sherlock said standing up. “I’ve got to do a little running around. I’m going to solve this.”

 

Sherlock didn’t wait for Greg to reply to his statement. He quickly rushed out of the restaurant before Greg could push the issue anymore.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains rape.

Sherlock rolled over onto his side as he slipped a pair of fingers in and out of his tight hole. Once he was sure he was open enough he removed them. He could hear John showering in the bathroom. He never understood why the good doctor insisted on showering before sex. He was just going to get sweaty and nasty. 

 

After a moment the doctor walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his broad waist, trails of water running down the tanned muscles, through the sparse brown hairs on his chest. John walked to the bed and was almost ready to slip under the sheets when his mobile let out a beep. John gave a sigh as he picked up his phone. 

 

He frowned as he scrolled through the message.

 

“You didn’t pay the electric?” John questioned. “It’s a day late.”

 

“I thought that was on automatic,” Sherlock said a little bit of fear creeping into him. 

 

He wasn’t in the mood for one of John’s outburst. It had been rather hard to explain the mark across his face. He loved the aftercare but it really wasn’t worth it. It caused far too many issues for him. 

 

They were about to engage in sex and Sherlock had looked forward to sex all day.

“Apparently not,” John growled, tossing the phone down.

 

The towel was doing little to hide John’s prominent erection. Sherlock wasn’t sure if he was getting turned on or scared of the idea. He wasn't sure he wanted John angry with him during their lovemaking. 

 

“Sherlock, I know you don’t like taking care of bills but you agreed to do this," the doctor said.

 

“I set it up automatically,” the detective said. “Let’s call them tomorrow and speak to them.  I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

 

“I know what I got for a notice. You didn’t pay the damn bill. Roll over,” John demanded dropping the towel. “Maybe there is still something you can do right.”

 

“Do you… want a blow job,” Sherlock offered, trying to help calm John down. 

 

Sherlock knew from all the times John growled with lust when he attempted to suck his cock that John loved felatio.

 

To his surprise, John grabbed him by the shoulders and flipped him over onto his stomach. Sherlock started to get up. The doctor raised his hand and brought it down hard on the man’s backside. 

 

Sherlock yelped in surprise more than pain. Had John lost his mind? Was he really going to force him to have sex? 

 

“Hold still,” John said opening the bedside table. 

 

Sherlock let out a sigh of relief when he heard a bottle of lube being open. At least the doctor was going to make sure he was slick inside. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. John kicked open his legs and settled down on top of him.

 

Without much warning, he started pushing in. Sherlock cried out as John took him without mercy. Even with the lube, it wasn’t easy going. The doctor was pushing in way too hard and fast. 

 

“Slow down,” Sherlock whimpered. “You’re hurting me.”

 

“What?” John asked slamming in hard. “Since when can’t you take me? Just shut up for five minutes. I’m not too happy with you right now.”

 

Sherlock bit down on the pillow as he tried to hold in his cries of pain. He didn’t know if hearing them would upset John and he didn’t want to risk that. Tears filled his eyes as he tried to force his body to relax. 

 

“That’s better,” the doctor said gripping Sherlock’s hips. “So tight inside. Oh my god.”

 

Tears leaked out Sherlock’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Pain shot up his spine with each of John’s thrust. It wasn’t just the pain that was making Sherlock cry. It was the loss of trust and love. 

 

He remembered the first time John took him. He was a virgin and very nervous about having sex for the first time. John had been so loving. He had held his hand and kissed him along his spine. He made it a wonderful experience.

 

John was reaching his climax. The detective could feel his cock expanding inside. Pain overtook him as John started to go even faster and harder. The pillow wasn’t enough to smother his cries. The sound of Sherlock’s pain filled sobs filled the bedroom. 

 

The doctor could hear him crying but he kept going. It didn't seem like anything was going to make him stop.

 

“Yes!” John cried as he let loose inside of his boyfriend.

 

Sherlock’s shoulders shook as the sobbing took over him. He stopped trying to hold it and just gave in. John carefully pulled out of him.

 

“Oh my god,” he said as he realized what he had done. “Are you alright?”

 

He reached out and tried to touch his shoulder. Sherlock pulled away from his touch and curled up into a ball. 

 

“I need to check you out,” John said getting out of the bed. “I have to see if you need stitches.”

 

Sherlock shook his head as John headed out of the bedroom. He didn’t want John touching him. He got out of bed and shut the bedroom door. He slid the lock closed. He picked up a chair and a slid it under the door handle to the bathroom. He didn’t want John anywhere near him.

 

He sat back down on the bed and placed his hand between his legs. He rubbed his finger against his tender hole. It felt raw under his fingers. He stuck the tip before lifting it to his face. 

 

No blood. 

 

He didn’t need John to look over the damage he had caused. He crawled under the blankets and put his head on the pillow.

 

All over an electric bill. His boyfriend had raped him over an electric bill.

 

“Sherlock?” John asked trying the door. “Let me in.”

 

“I’m not bleeding,” the detective explained. “Go away.”

 

“You can’t understand how sorry I am,” John said softly. “Please let me in. I want to fix it.”

 

The detective said nothing putting the pillow over his head. He just wanted to be left alone. The thought of seeing John made him sick. There was no way to _fix_ what he'd done.

 

“Alright,” the doctor said. “I get it. Just rest.”

 

Sherlock took a deep shaky breath as he heard John walk away from the door. 

 

He was safe. 

 

What the hell was he going to do? He knew John would be extra loving and caring but it would wear off. In a few weeks, something else would send John off the handle. Who would have thought darling John would have such a dark side? 

 

Sherlock couldn’t go to the police about what was happening. John would get arrested, lose his job, and possibly his daughter. He couldn’t do that to the man he loved. He would have to suffer through it until John came out of his rut. 


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock was determined to find Seether. He’d been looking for her for weeks. His homeless network had been on it day and night. He was sure she was being held somewhere. At least that was what he hoped. It would mean she was still alive.

 

After hours of phone calls Sherlock was sure he knew where Seether Divis was. His homeless network had finally found her or at least someone they believed to be her. 

 

Sherlock went to the location where his network had reported seeing a body that fit his description. He wanted to see the body and make sure that it was really her.

 

The detective slipped down the dark alleyway and found the trashcan at the end. Sherlock opened the lid. It fell back against the brick wall with a bang. The sound echoed through the empty alley.

 

He leaned over the edge of the trash can and looked inside. His hands trembled slightly as he bent over the edge. He knew was he was about ready to see and he wasn't sure he was ready.

 

Inside was the trash can was a dead teenage girl. Sherlock recognized Seether from her picture but just barely. She was badly beaten and bruises covered most of her body that wasn’t covered by clothes. Her clothing was torn very badly and barely hung to her small frame. 

 

He dropped the lid and backed away from the trash can. He couldn’t look at her anymore. He had failed her. He had looked everywhere for her but he hadn’t found her in time. Her body hadn’t been there very long. He’d just missed saving her life. If he had just put a little work into looking for her he might have found her in time.

 

Sherlock took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. He pulled out his mobile phone and dialed Lestrade’s number. The detective inspector picked up after a few rings.

 

“She’s dead,” Sherlock explained.”I found the body.”

 

After Sherlock gave him the address he put his mobile away and closed his eyes. She was dead. She was only nineteen and it appeared she’d been beaten to death. Normally, Sherlock wouldn’t be affected by it. He would simply clean up the mess and move on to the next case.

 

Yet, with Seether it was different.

 

All he could think about was her pain. Her broken body that lay in a dumpster. How long had he been beating her? Was she afraid of him? What were her last moments like? Was she afraid? Did she know he was going to snuff her life out?

 

How long did it take to get that bad?  Would John ever let it get that far?

 

**No.**

 

John lost his temper from time to time but he would never do something like **that.** The plate didn’t even count because Sherlock had driven him to that. The slap over the tickets didn’t really count either. After all, it wouldn’t have happened if he had just bought the damn tickets.

 

What happened to Seether would NEVER happen to him.

\--

Sherlock and John hadn’t really talked since the night of rough sex. Well, rough sex was putting it lightly. The detective had burned inside for days. He even had to take laxatives to make it easier to go to the bathroom. John had taken to sleeping on the couch. Sherlock made it clear he didn’t want him in their bed.

 

The doctor felt horrible about what he had done. It was made worse the next day. The electric company called and explained the text had been a mistake. He had attacked his boyfriend over a mistake. He had **raped** his boyfriend over a mistake. The word **rape** burned in his mind.

 

Sherlock had dove into his missing person case. He could tell his partner was hoping to find Seether alive. When Sherlock returned home with a depressed look on his face John knew what had happened. They had found Seether but she was dead.

 

John decided he needed to talk to his boyfriend. He needed to know how Sherlock was feeling. He was so scared he’d done internal damage. He knew Sherlock didn’t want to speak with him but he was going to have to force the conversation.

 

He found Sherlock was sitting up in their bed reading a book. Sherlock glanced up for a second but quickly looked back down at his book. John glanced away as well. There was no way he wanted to look his lover in the eye. The doctor had caused him pain in a way he should never have. 

 

“We need to talk,” the doctor said sitting down on the bed.

 

“I don’t want to,” Sherlock said trying to focus on his book.

 

“Are you still hurting?” John pushed the conversation on.

 

“Yes,” Sherlock answered flipping a page. “But it’s not so bad right now."

 

“I had no right to do what I did,” he said reaching out to touch Sherlock’s arm.

 

To his surprise, Sherlock didn’t pull away from his touch. He half expected his mate to pull away from his touch. Sherlock allowed his lover to wrap his fingers around his arm. He wanted John to touch him in a soft loving way.

 

“You wouldn’t listen to me,” Sherlock said closing his book. “You don’t listen to me anymore at all.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know that doesn’t make it better but I am. I don’t know why I’m lunged out at you but I am going to stop.”

 

_He does it because you will take it and never leave him. You’re the perfect little punching bag._

 

Sherlock pushed the thought out of his mind.

 

“I promise you,” John said kissing the top of his head. “This won’t happen again, baby. I can’t do that to you again.”

 

_Why was he making promises he couldn’t keep?_

 

Sherlock dropped his book and pulled his boyfriend in for a hug. This was what he enjoyed. The long hugs and soft kisses.

 

“I’m sorry about Seether,” John said softly. “I know you were..affected by her death.”

 

Sherlock didn’t want to think about Seether. He had seen countless dead bodies in his life but Seether was the first one to really affect him. He couldn’t stand staring at her body. She was covered in bruises and had several broken bones. Someone who was supposed to love her had done that to her.

 

“Just another body,” Sherlock said trying not to think about it.

 

“I know why it upset you so badly,” the doctor said. “I’ve been hurting you just like her boyfriend was. You’re afraid you could end up like her.”

 

_Right on the head._

 

Sherlock pulled away from his lover. He didn’t want to hear that.

 

“I won’t let it happen,” the doctor said. “I promise.”

 

_He wouldn’t hit you if you were better. Just be better._

 

“I know,” Sherlock lied. “I know. Just forget about it. We’re ok now”

 

He allowed himself to lean against his lover. He knew the new few weeks would be easy but he was scared of what would come after that.


	7. Chapter 7

John refused to have sex with Sherlock for a full week after their talk. He was too scared of hurting his tender insides. When they finally made love John bought a lube of expensive lube and was extra gentle with him. Sherlock felt a little nervous at first but had relaxed rather quickly. It was nice to be held and gently made love to. 

 

Sherlock did everything he could not to piss John off. He only baited him to get hit once and he regretted it right away. He had pushed John to the limit and he had snapped. Yes, he had hit him on his own the first time but that had been mild. A little shove was nothing to worry about. 

 

If he hadn’t baited him the broken plate would never have happened. He was to blame for that.

 

John’s outbursts had been secret so far. He had only lost his temper with him in the privacy of their flat. No one had seen John berating him for his faults. At least he had that to be thankful for. 

 

About a week after their gentle lovemaking John broke the mold. Sherlock knew it was only a matter of time but he wished it had lasted a little longer. 

 

They were at Scotland Yard going over an interesting case. John had been absent from his cases due to a heavy workload at the clinic and was happy to be there to help out. 

 

“Missing dogs?” Sherlock asked looking at the file. “Why do we care about missing dogs?”

 

It didn’t seem worth his time.

 

“There has to be some kind of connection,” Lestrade said looking at the papers. “Seventeen stolen dogs.”

 

“Again why do I care?” the annoyed consulting detective asked. “No doubt it’s just a dog fighting ring. Why is Scotland Yard worrying me with this? Don’t you have people who deal with this?”

 

It was only then that he noticed John was looking at him with an annoyed look. John never liked him giving Lestrade a hard time but Sherlock felt like he had a good point. Why did they care?

 

“The families think they are being stalked even after the dogs are taken,” Lestrade explained handing him another file. “It’s pretty unusual. If they just wanted the dogs why would they keep stalking the families?”

 

“It’s a four at the highest,” Sherlock said pushing the folders back. “I’m not interested.”

 

“Can you just chill the hell out?” John snapped. “These are family pets. Can you at least feel a little sympathy for five bloody seconds.”

 

Lestrade looked at John in shock. He had heard John be blunt with Sherlock in the past but never that rough. Sherlock didn’t even seem mad. He just looked embarrassed. He wasn’t looking at either of them. His eyes were fixed on his shoes. 

 

“I’ll look at it,” Sherlock said taking the files. “I do need something to do.”

 

Lestrade was still looking at John as he handed Sherlock the files. Part of him wanted to get after John. He had no right to talk to Sherlock like that but he didn’t. He didn’t blame John for losing his temper with Sherlock from time to time. That man could be rather annoying sometimes. Maybe, he should just let it slid once.

 

Sherlock gave his boyfriend a nervous glance. He knew John’s words weren’t going to be his only weapon that night.

 

“I’ll call you if I figure anything out,” Sherlock said before heading out of the office.

 

Sherlock was nervous about what John was going to do when they got home. He was clearly annoyed with him. He wasn’t in any hurry to get home and deal with it but he was scared of John doing it in front of other people. He wondered what people would think if John had to slap him for being a smart ass. 

 

He was going to have to face the consequences of his loud mouth.

 

___

 

John barely waited until they were in their flat before he jumped on him.

 

“Can’t you show a little respect?” John snapped. “He found an interesting case for you. You should be grateful.”

 

Sherlock knew he was right. Lestrade had found something he thought would interest him. His friend had tried to help him out. He looked down at his shoes as John lectured him about his behavior as if he were a naughty child.

 

“Are you listening to me?” the doctor demanded. 

 

“Yes,” Sherlock whispered. 

 

“I’ve had enough of your mouth,” John said grabbing Sherlock's wrist. “If you insist on acting like a child I’m going to treat you like one.”

 

Sherlock looked at his boyfriend in confusion. The doctor yanked him towards his chair. Sherlock put up a fight, pulling away. The doctor gave an annoyed grunt and pulled on his wrist harder. What the hell did John had planned?

 

“You’re only making this harder on yourself,” the shorter man growled. “Stop fighting.”

 

The doctor sat down in his chair and pulled Sherlock of his lap. It was only then that Sherlock realized what his lover planned to do.

 

He was going to spank him!

 

“No!” Sherlock said fighting against John’s hold. “Let me go!”

 

John held tightly onto Sherlock’s wrist. He was squeezing with all his might to hold the taller man in place. He was rather strong when he decided to put up a fight. Sherlock cried out in pain as he felt something snap into his bony wrist. A soft “snapping” sound filled the room.

 

The doctor quickly let go of the wrist he was holding as if he had been burnt. He could see angry marks on his friend’s wrist. It was already starting to swell and he was sure there would be bruises there tomorrow. John would need to see an x-ray but it looked like it was broken.

 

“We need to have it looked at,” John said helping his lover to his feet. “I think it’s broken.”

 

No! He couldn’t go to A&E. They would ask questions. What would he tell them? 

 

“Just tell them you fell,” John suggested. “It needs to be tended to.”

 

Sherlock frowned. What if they didn’t believe him? What if they thought John was hurting him? Yes, John had just broken his wrist but it was an accident. He was just going to spank him and Sherlock put up a fight. If he had just let John spank him it wouldn’t have been a big deal.

 

“Alright,” Sherlock said holding his hurt wrist close to his body. “Let’s go.”

 

John frowned as he watched Sherlock try to put his coat back on. He cried out as he tried to slide the sleeve over his injured arm. 

 

“Here darling,” John said carefully helping. “Take it easy.” 

 

The doctor frowned when he saw the worried and scared look on his boyfriend’s face. He had broken his boyfriend’s wrist. What the hell was wrong with him? If it was bad enough Sherlock would need a cast. That would drive him crazy.

 

Maybe this was the wake call he needed. He had done serious damage. No. He was jumping to conclusions. He didn’t even know if the wrist was broken. It could be a very bad sprain. Of course, either way, it wasn’t good. He needed to get a grip on his temper. 

 

“Come on,” John said. “Let’s get that wrist looked at.”

 

Sherlock wasn’t excited about getting his wrist looked at it but he didn’t have a choice. It had to be looked at.  He nodded and reluctantly allowed John to lead him out of the flat. 

 

\--

 

It was broken. 

 

Sherlock felt like all the life was drained out of him as soon as he heard those words. It wasn’t a  big break so a brace would be enough but he would have to wear it for eight weeks. Eight weeks of limited activity. He was also going to need a sling to help his body rest.

 

The detective had made sure to have an excuse ready. When he and John had left the flat to the go to the hospital the detective noticed a basket of washing on the bottom step. Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to take care of some of Rosie’s clothes.

 

Sherlock kicked the basket over as he went. 

 

He would tell her he tripped over it. 

 

He felt horrible about blaming her but he didn’t have a choice. Leaving the basket of washing on the steps was a stupid mistake. She wouldn’t get in trouble for that. John might get in trouble if anyone found out he had broken his wrist. 

 

Sherlock felt sick his stomach as the nurse helped slid the brace over his wrist. At first, it hurt but as she adjusted the straps into place it felt better. She slid the arm into a sling and fit it around his neck. The set up made him feel a lot better. Last but not least he was given a prescription for pain medicine. He was going to be hurting for a few weeks.

 

When he walked back into that waiting room found a very worried John waiting for him.

 

“Broken,” Sherlock explained. “Eight weeks in a brace.”

 

John didn’t say anything. He just looked away as a wave of guilt crept over him. He was a doctor! He was meant to report things like this. He had reported abuse more than a few times during his time as a doctor. 

 

“Come on,” John said standing up. “Let’s get you home and let you rest. You really look like you need it.”

 

Sherlock let John wrap an around him and led him out of the room. 

 

\--

 

Mrs. Hudson felt terrible about leaving the washing on the steps. She was taking the basket up to their flat when her phone rang. She had completely forgotten about the basket. Now Sherlock had a broken wrist because of her. 

 

She was determined to help John take care of him until he felt better. The good doctor clearly wanted to help his lover but he couldn’t be there all the time.

 

Sherlock felt horrible as he watched Mrs. Hudson run around and take of him. She wasn’t to blame for this. John was. HIs boyfriend was letting their landlady take care of him and feel responsible. Yes, he was helping but not the way he normally would.

 

Perhaps, he was just guilty but it bothered Sherlock. He wanted to John to take care of him. He wanted to know he was sorry for what he’d done. 

 

He needed to get out of the flat. He couldn’t stand to be there. Their flat used to be a loving home but now it was just a place where John attacked him.

 

“I’m going to see Molly,” Sherlock said. “I need to get out here.”

 

“Want me to come?” John asked looking up from his laptop. 

 

“No,” Sherlock said. “I need some space right now. Can you help me put on my coat?”

 

John nodded putting his laptop off to the side. He got his feet and helped Sherlock put on his coat. He frowned when he saw Sherlock wince. His boyfriend was clearly in pain.

 

“Have you taken your pills?” John questioned.

 

“Yes,” Sherlock said. “This morning. It’s just going to hurt a while.”

 

John didn’t say anything as he helped Sherlock adjust the sling. What could he say? He had caused his partner to suffer. There was nothing he could say to make it better. There was nothing he could do to fix the pain Sherlock was feeling. All he could do was make sure it didn’t happen again.

 


End file.
